A Ghost's Statue
by evelinaonline
Summary: All they have left of their brother is a statue that doesn't even look like him.


**This is a gift for my babey child Liv (octopodium on AO3). I can't believe you're getting older,,, I love you so much,,,**

**It only felt fitting to write something based on one of YOUR posts.**

**For context: Ben's statue has some gold spots, which means that it was touched a lot. To quote Liv, "how many times did one of his siblings walk past and put a hand on its knee, looking up and meeting its eyes?"**

**Hope you like this, I LOVE YOU SO MUCH HAPPY BIRTHDAY!**

* * *

_May the darkness within you find peace in the light._

Sometimes, when the house is too quiet, Luther steps outside to listen to the cars drive by the mansion. He can't actually see them from the courtyard but the sound of old tires against the road bring him some sort of comfort.

What he can see is a statue.

It's not in the middle of the courtyard—that's where Luther is standing—but rather built at the side. Someone who doesn't know any better could assume the figure is taking care of the house.

But Luther knows the figure well. Maybe his father's intentions were to honor his brother, but the statue's presence reminds Luther of a ghost. Still. Quiet. Cold.

Ben's statue is so cold.

Luther always ends up reaching for it. He places his hand on his knee. His fingers shiver at the touch, but it's nothing compared to the stinging feeling that's spreading in his chest.

.

Diego never stays in the courtyard for too long; the statue looks nothing like his brother, but it's as if he's looking at him, and it feels almost too real.

But it's not. It's not real. It's just a stupid statue, and for some reason Diego can't avert his gaze. He never actually speaks to it, but he keeps thinking of what he wants to say.

_I'm sorry I failed you. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry I couldn't save you._

He wipes his tears and pats the statue's shoe before slipping back inside the house.

.

Allison can't believe that all she has left of her brother is a piece of metal.

She stands on the tips of her toes and slips her fingers into Ben's.

She hates how fake it feels. She hates looking at it. She hates being near it. She hates missing him so much, _she hates Ben for dying._

Allison begs and begs. Rumors and rumors.

The metal never turns to flesh.

.

It's on a cold night during the fall that Five finds himself back in the remainings of the academy, desperately looking for a set of clothes that will fit him. He digs and digs, but all he finds are ashes and bones and—

A head. A statue's head.

Five picks it up carefully. It looks nothing like his brother, and yet Five knows that it's him before he finds the inscription a few piles further.

He cups Ben's cheeks. Maybe he cries. He doesn't know.

He buries him with the others.

.

Vanya can't reach Ben's hand.

She can barely even reach his knee, and she still has to stretch a few muscles to do so. She ends up running her hand down his leg when she gets tired, and resting it on his shoe.

She tries practicing the violin outside. Maybe her music can reach him, somehow.

But Vanya can never finish a single song before memories of her brother humming along come to mind, and suddenly her eyes and cheeks are wet, and—

She packs her violin and wipes her tears on the sleeve of her sweater. She considers wrapping a scarf around the statue, and she doesn't know whether it's for her own comfort or Ben's.

All she knows is that she misses him.

.

Pogo spends hours every day sitting by the quiet statue in the courtyard, hand lying on its shoe. Grace smiles at it through the window. Reginald Hargreeves never looks at the statue for more than a second.

.

Klaus uses the statue's hand as support, pulls himself up and sits.

It's a quiet night; the sky is clear for once, and although the city lights prevent the stars from shining to their full potential, they pop up like the polka dots on Mom's skirt. Klaus knows it won't last. It never does anyway.

"Must be a full moon today," he mumbles. "I can never tell with these things. I'm always a day off or something, and Luther goes nerd-mode on me."

Klaus squints his eyes as he looks up in the sky. The bright circle seems as if it might be full, but Klaus can't figure out whether it's missing a part or not. Oh well. He isn't really interested anyway.

He dusts off his joint to the side. "Mom should really plant some flowers here. Maybe lilies—_pink_ lilies, or something, you know? It's too moody."

Klaus smiles at the thought. Tiny pink petals, giving accents to the courtyard… He loves it.

It seems as if he's the only one though, because he still hasn't gotten a response.

"Well someone's quiet tonight."

Ben shrugs from the other side of the statue's platform. He's leaning against the statue's leg—_his_ leg, and his hood is pulled up. Klaus can't tell what he's looking at, but Ben probably can't answer that himself either.

"C'moooon, Benny," Klaus says and he'd so bump Ben's side if he could. "Cheer up a little, will you?"

Still silent.

"Ugh, you're so annoying."

It's only then that he gets some sort of reaction out of Ben. It's nothing much; his brother glances at him with the corner of his eyes and goes back to staring into nothingness. Better than nothing, Klaus supposes.

"It looks nothing like me," Ben finally speaks up.

Klaus raises an eyebrow. "Enlighten me, por favor?"

Ben sighs and takes one hand out of his pockets to point upwards.

Ah. The statue.

"I mean, what'd you expect?" Klaus asks. "For Dad to actually do something right for a change? Nah."

"I don't know what I expected." Ben buries himself deeper into his hoodie. "But it doesn't look like me."

"Does it matter?"

"I don't know."

"Then what's wrong?"

"_I don't know!"_

Klaus flinches at the way Ben raises his voice. It isn't really loud, just catches him by surprise. And Ben doesn't sound angry either, just confused. Lost. Maybe a little sad.

It's one of these nights.

"Gardenias," Ben mumbles after what feels like an eternity.

"What?"

"Mom should plant gardenias here," he explains. "They're nice."

Klaus pulls up an image of it in his head. Little green bushes, with big white flowers and round petals, surrounding the courtyard, from the entrance to the main ground, to Ben's statue—

Oh.

Maybe it doesn't mean anything. Maybe Ben isn't bringing it up because he wants something that represents him around his monument, maybe, maybe, and definitely.

"Let's go look at flowers tomorrow," Klaus suggests, because he doesn't know what he's supposed to say.

"Okay."

Number Six's statue is never decorated with flowers. The only things that change are the golden smears on its hands, legs and shoes that become more and more apparent as time goes by.

All Ben can think of when he sees them is how much he wants to be held.


End file.
